On the Down Low
by Dingbat142001
Summary: Oneshot. Without his good morning kiss, it isn’t much of a .good. morning is it?  DL. Fluff!


**Title: On the Down Low**

**Rating:** FRT  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. Just the idea.  
**Spoilers:** Um, don't think so…

**Summary: Oneshot. Without his good morning kiss, it isn't much of a .good. morning is it? DL. Fluff! Special guest appearance by Flack.**

FYI, I found it rather difficult to write the convo between Don and Danny. I don't spend a lot of time around 'manly men' (I'm in a geek course), but conversations between two gun slinging cops are just hard to do.

* * *

"Something I can do for you, Messer?", as the Detective in question wrapped his arms around her in the Trace lab. 

"I woke up alone this morning," he most definitely pouted.

"What? You mean you're not used to it?" she chided.

A deep chuckled reverberated from him, through her back, "Oh! Baby, that hurts."

She giggled, running a blacklight over the pants in front of her. "If you must know, I was used to it, until a Country girl started sharing my bed."

"Oh, well she must be something special," smirking out of his line of sight.

"She is," sincerely placing a lingering kiss on her neck. He knew she was smiling.

He watched her for a moment or two, eyeing up a Carmel colored residue near the fly of the pants, before going back to his previous statement.

"I woke up alone," as if pointing it out for the first time. He felt Lindsay shake with stifled giggles, and he couldn't help but smirk into her hair.

"And?"

"Well", he said, "I never got my good morning kiss."

"Oh?" feigning ignorance. "Didn't you? Well, I'm sure Hawkes or Flack, or even Sid would be happy to oblige."

"Hmmm...yes, but here's the problem. I don't want a kiss from any of them," running his nose up the column of her neck.

"I heard they are all quite skilled," she said, writing about the pant residue in her notes.

"I'd rather not test out that theory...and how did you find that out anyway?"

She giggled, hearing the frustration rising in his voice. "Around the water cooler." He grunted running his thumb over the hem of her shirt, an action that was getting her more distracted by the moment, as if his body against hers wasn't enough.

"Dan, I have work to do," hoping, and both dreading that he'd get the picture and leave before she did something unprofessional.

"Uh huh, and I have something I still need to get," placing his lips on the back of her neck in a reminder.

Sighing in defeat, she put down her tweezers, turned around in his arms, and lazily draped her arms around his neck.

"You really are incorrigible," she murmured before making contact with his smirking lips. She went to pull away, but Danny had other ideas and deepened the kiss, pulling her bottom lip with his teeth, his hands moving up and down her sides. After longer than she intended, she pulled away and out of his arms, turning back to the evidence on the light table in front of her.

"Now go," smiling when he placed another kiss on her neck, before exiting the room.

* * *

Don Flack was making his way through the New York Crime Lab, armed with a pen and notepad, in search for case lead, Stella Bonasera. Looking through the glass walls to his right, he saw nothing, turning to the left, he nearly dropped his notepad. He shook his head vigorously, then lifted his chin off the floor.

Standing in Trace like it was the most casual thing to do, was Danny Messer pressed tightly against Miss Lindsay Monroe. Don whipped his head around in fear of any other witnesses, and was relieved to find himself alone. He turned and made a hasty retreat down an adjacent hall, but not before seeing 'Montana', as she was so called by her clearly affectionate counterpart, turn and plant her lips against his.

* * *

"Hey," Don, tying his shoes, nearly fell off the bench as Danny came into the locker room, mumbling something that sounded like 'damn rookie' and 'open his eyes'.

He had been dreading this. How do you act normal with one of your best friends, when you saw them in a slightly compromising position with a once thought of colleague, without them getting suspicious?

"Oh, uh...hi," standing up and rushing to his locker for his coat.

"You alright, man?" asked Danny, changing his coffee stained shirt.

"Oh, um... yeah. Listen," Don was about to test a theory. "Hawkes and I and a few of the guys are heading out for drinks. Maybe meet a few girls; have a little fun; Wanna come?"

Danny turned around, slipping on another shirt, with a slight grin on his face.

"Naw, thanks, but I have uh, stuff to do."

"Alright, that's cool," he said nonchalantly out the door. "See ya later, man."

"Have a good one."

Three seconds later, Don marched purposefully back into the room. Danny quirked and eyebrow.

"Alright, I'm just gonna come out and say it," the guilt was eating him alive. "I saw you and Monroe earlier today in Trace."

"Uh huh." Danny shrugged his shoulders in a _'ya, so what?'_ kind of manner.

"You were...uh..." he coughed, clearly awkward. Danny regarded him, perplexed for a moment, then it donned (no pun intended) on him. Don had seen Lindsay in his arms, obviously not working.

"Oh," when he should have been, he really wasn't upset or embarrassed about it. He could care less if someone saw him with his girlfriend. Anyway, it was only a matter of time before people figured it out.

Don jumped in before Danny could say anymore. "I didn't mean to, but I was looking for Stel, and ..."

"It's cool."

"..I.."

"Don, it's alright." Danny insisted. He stifled a chuckle as relief washed across Flack's face. "We were gonna tell you anyway."

"Well, um...ok. That's great, man. Happy for ya," he said, shaking the CSIs hand. Danny cheekily grinned, as Don scratched the back of his neck. He had something else he wanted to say.

"So, uh... how long?"

Danny made an effort to look like he was counting; thought remembering the best 297 days of his life wasn't all that hard. "10 months."

"Woah! 10 months eh? That's big coming from the guy who I remember his track record being only 6."

"I don't see you being any better," said Danny, already prepared for the ribbing he was now bound to get.

"Hey, I just haven't met the right one yet. You on the other hand..." trailing off, the rest didn't need to be said.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, now embarrassed, "Yeah."

Hesitating a moment, Don asked a final question. One he was sure he'd either be hit, or killed for.

"Uh...how deep are you?"

Danny looked at him, then quickly turned back to his locker, avoiding eye contact.

"Point of no return."

Flack, expecting that answer, patted him on the back. "Congrats, man. She's good for you," making his way out the door.

"You have no idea," Danny mumbled more to himself, rubbing one of his dog tags that had her nickname inscribe into it.

"No idea, what so ever."

* * *

The door opening, turned her attention from the 'Dirty Jobs' rerun she was watching, to the figure taking off his boots and coat.

"Hey, why are you home so early?" a slight trace of concern on her face.

Walking into the living room, he looked at her, curled up on his couch in flannel mickey mouse pajama pants, and his old Giants t-shirt. He could smell something cooking in the kitchen, Chicken Parmesan if he wasn't mistaken, and he was thankful that he had given her a key. He loved coming home to this.

"My case wrapped up so Mac said I could go." He watched as relief flooded across her face, and he couldn't help but kiss her as he sat down beside her, her body curling up to his instantly.

"So, you caught him, then?" she asked. He had been working relentlessly on this one, and didn't very much enjoy the overtime he was putting in, as it interfered with what he called 'Montana time'.

"Yeah, just as he was boarding a flight to Switzerland."

"Oh, well Switzerland's a nice place this time of year."

He smiled, "Too bad he won't be enjoying it though."

They sat in silence as they watched 'Dirty Jobs' host, Mike Rowe wrestle alligators at a breeding farm, occasionally with Lindsay piping in about cow roping in Montana.

They lied on the couch for quite some time, her sitting between his legs, leaning against his chest, while he ran his fingers through her hair.

"Flack knows about us," he said out of the blue.

Lindsay turned her head to look at him, but didn't look too surprised.

"How'd he find out?"

"He saw us in Trace this morning."

"Oh, when you demanded I kiss you?" she grinned.

Danny took her hand in his, "I did not demand you kiss me. I just said I wanted you to," he shrugged, smirking like he had a right to.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but saying you won't leave me alone till I kiss you, is a form of blackmail, and blackmail, in a way, is a demand. Ergo…"

Danny laughed as me made her argument. He loved disputing with her. She got so involved and passionate.

"No, a demand is 'kiss me now', I simply requested one. You could have said no, but you didn't. You actually enjoyed it. The noises you were making told me so."

"Oh, shut up!" she giggled, elbowing him in the ribs.

"So, I just made a demand. What are you going to do about it?" the oven timer going off in the kitchen, signaling dinner was ready.

"I'm gonna ignore your command, King Messer, and eat, 'cause I'm starving."

Danny grinned as they both got up and headed to the kitchen. He could put off the kiss, for now.

"Ah, a girl after my own heart," food always comes first…though the next thing she said almost made him change his mind.

"Why would I be _after_ your heart, when I already _have_ it?"

Danny sheepishly grinned.

Oh yeah.

Point of no return.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **_Just wrote this, this morning. Shameless fluff! 


End file.
